Dungeon Dangers
by Spiritual Stone
Summary: I have issues. Every Hero does. Some drink until they're comatosed, others go on a mass-murder spree. Me, I have the biggest personal-space bubble ever. So being tied up caterpillar style to someone who I have a crush on is... not good. TWOSHOT LinkSheik
1. Part 1 of 2

_**Dungeon Dangers**_

He didn't even like me.

"That's not true," Zelda insisted before she sent us away, "He's just… withdrawn."

I rolled my eyes. "He calls people he likes by name. Have you ever heard him call me Link? Admit it, it's always been Hero, and always will be."

Zelda looked worried. She probably knew I was mostly sad about that, but just a little glad. The less people liked me or even knew me, the less I would have to keep secrets. And I admired him, with his overly cheery tone and the eye(s) that always smiled. "He always requests you, when it's a group venture."

"Chya," I snorted, "Because I'm the Hero of Time."

"Quite right."

I'd spun round, and there he was, no longer in the skin-tight suit, but a blue jerkin and brown baggy pants, soft boots, a white long-sleeved shirt and the ever present mask or cowl or something that covered the lower part of his face and the fringe that covered his right eye. Sheik chuckled at my annoyed stare. "Well, do you really expect the castle dullards to catch up with me? And they never wear hats as laughable as yours."

Zelda gave an aggravated sigh and threw up her hands and cried out, "Just get to the damn mission already!"

……………

There was a nudge against my back. "Hero… Hero!"

"Mmmnng…" Dizzy…

"Wake up,"

Wake up? Why did I need to wake up? Then I remembered (the gravel against my chin was a big hint) and I groaned. I opened my eyes and it's still dark, like a cell.

When I said back, I meant my _whole back,_ all the way from the middle of my shoulder-blades down to my calves. "This is _ridiculous_,"

He gave a tired sigh. "Hero…"

"How freaking tied up are we!? Why the heck didn't we wake up when tho-hurrghs…"

I gagged and retched but managed to keep the bread, apple and milk I had for breakfast in. I felt him nod his head against mine. I was glad my hat's still there. "Ever heard of _quifh_, Hero?"

I coughed, "Nope."

"Drug, sleep, nausea, slight after-taste of tea. Feeling it?"

I ran my tongue against my teeth. I hate tea. "Yep."

"I'm guessing they'd stuffed a good glob of it into our faces," he sighed, "I have to admit that this is quite degrading…"

"Please, please can you get us free?"

He moved and I could feel it in my whole back and a shiver crawled down my spine, cold and uncomfortable. "Oh," he said, "I forgot you had issues."

"_Just shut up and do it_!"

He was right. I had issues (still do). All Heroes do. Some don't talk. Some drink. Some go on a mass-murdering spree. Me, I have personal space issues. I have the biggest personal space bubble ever. I can't have people being close to me. I can't. Partly because I've worked solo too long. Partly to keep my identity safe.

So being tied back-to-back with rope wound round from shoulders to knees like some sick caricature of a two headed caterpillar was… not good.

I begged: "Sheik, please…"

"I'm on it, don't fuss-"

"Stop wriggling!"

"Do you _want _to be free or not!?"

I shut up. Thought happy thoughts like knitting in the middle of the Hyrule Fields, a nice campfire cooking cucco at night by the Desert Colossus, sleeping under the stars on top of Death Mountain, anything, anything, than this nightmare of close-contact.

I was _hating _Zelda right then.

"There's a suspicious fortress," she said, "On the other side of Death Mountain. I know this is a pain, but can you check it out for me?"

Well, those weren't her exact words, but still. I asked why Sheik didn't go, because Zelda would've asked him first, but then I already guessed. He had a policy; he saved people only if they were polite to him, or only if he was working with me.

And this was a group venture, supposedly. A two 'man' venture.

I would be helping Agitha choose a dress to her date with Colin if I'd had my way…

"Alright," Sheik grunted, "Spread your legs."

"_Excuse_ _me_!?"

"I have a knife under my shoe, reserved for emergencies," he explained in a really exasperated and impatient tone, "Obviously I can't reach it, though I've lodged it enough that the point is sticking out somewhat. And contrary to popular belief, the knee can bend only _backwards_. So I'm going to have to cut through your side. See where I'm headed?"

I still didn't like it.

After a few kicks and grunts the knife catches and the rope tears. I nearly sobbed with relief; it unravelled up to our hips, and counting to synchronise our moves, we sat up.

Then we noticed two other complications. First, we had rope collars. Second, they were connected to our wrists, tied at our backs.

I hyperventilated. I'm never going into a fortress ever again. Give me caves, abandoned temples, tombs, anything but man-handled fortresses.

"It's alright, Hero," he calmly stated, "I've got a vague plan forming-"

"Not vague. Anything but vague. And quick, please, quick-"

"Calm!" Sheik snapped, "Geez, you make me seem so uptight and serious. Look, can you handle my weight?"

"Yes." Deep breath, deep breath, "Yes I can."

"Alright. Judging by the knot on our wrists and the fact that some of it's cold, it's a mixture of chains and rope."

"Okay."

"My noose is connected to your handcuffs, and vice versa. I'll cut through my noose with the knife, roll over your back, gnaw through _your_ noose, and then free us both. Deal?"

I walk through the plan in my head, picturing each step. I freeze. "_No_! I'm sorry, but no! I can't! I can't handle hugs. And you'll be, damn it, just no!"

"Don't you think personal boundaries are officially off the priority list by now?"

But he'll know. He'll find out. "I can't. I can't."

There's a pause. He sighed and knocked the back of his head against mine. "… Are you hiding something from me, Hero?"

Yes. "No."

"Let's put it this way then," he reasoned, "After they knocked us out with that gas, and made sure we stayed down with a hunk of _quifh_, they took our weapons, our gauntlets, our belts, bandoleer, and on my part, my wrappings full of explosives. They even took my head wraps, my cowl and my favourite pocket-sized jigsaw puzzle. And yet, they don't take your hat. Funny, that, hm?"

I felt my face go white. Oh by the mother of the Three, he'd guessed. "It's pretty ugly…"

"Then why even wear it?" he queried, "I mean, I won't pretend I know about Kokiri traditions, but this doesn't seem to click. It's not like you have long hair, so that's ruled out, unless it has some properties of protection …?"

I was actually trembling. Sheik's made remarks about my hat before; it's one of his pass-times to mock the thing, really, but it's never been brutally to the point as this.

"Hero," he finally threatened, "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. The only difference between the two options is your concession, or lack thereof. What do you-?"

"I'm sorry, Sheik, I… I really can't, I…" I took a deep breath, and bit the metaphorical arrow-head. "I'm a girl."

There's a pause. He sighed and laughed at once. "You know what you sound like?"

"Insane."

"Oh yes."

"It's true." I'm hyperventilating again. I can't sit still. "When the Deku Tree realised I was, was, t-the _Destined Child_, he thought people wouldn't accept a girl as a saviour, so he made this hat, and… Here I am."

I needed to get out. I couldn't handle this anymore. The space. The dark. _Him_. I couldn't.

"Hero," Sheik sighed, and I can hear his smile, "I knew."

I froze over. I stopped breathing. He snickered, kindly.

"Sorry to disappoint, but I've known for just over a year, I think."

"You can't have. That's… that's…"

"Impossible? Hardly," he scoffed lightly and sighed, "I know everybody in the castle, Hero, either by title or name or face. Yet there was one girl that took care of the gardens sometimes, that the maids and laundry women spoke fondly of, that kept disappearing off the face of the earth, and I knew nothing about her. I did some spying, and I noticed that every time she disappeared, the ever enigmatic Hero popped up somewhere in Hyrule, particularly in the Castle. How odd, I thought, and always wearing that silly hat, and I saw once that the Garden girl talked with the Princess… did some speculating, did some research, and I did confront Zelda…"

"She…" I couldn't believe it. I'd _trusted her_. "She told you."

"Oh not immediately, in fact I had to guess right on the mark before she conceded that I may be onto something, but believe me, that took me months."

That makes me vaguely feel better. _Vaguely_.

"So, now that's over with… can we please get on with my plan?"

The vague better-ness evaporated. "_No_!"

"Oh come _on_!"

"Don't you get it!? I haven't been _touched_! The warmth I know is of dieing bodies of goddesses know what and monster blood the only things that've hugged me on the loosest use of the term is Morpha the Redeads those giant Hands I haven't, I haven't gotten used to people yet this… this is completely, and utterly, out of my league…"

Oh gods, I was crying. I was actually crying. This was humiliating. I didn't seem to be able to stop either. Sheik made nice shushing noises so I tried to calm down and steady my breathing and it worked, sort of.

"Hero…" he sighed and knocked his head against mine again. "I am not going to hurt you. I only intend to free you. You have my assurances that I will make it as quick as possible. You trust me, don't you?"

I whimpered. "You don't even like me."

"Not exactly," he replied smoothly, "I just don't associate with people that disguise themselves. It comes with being in disguise all the time myself."

I grunted.

"Very manly." He commented. "Look, we can work as a team, get out of here, beat the bastard that trapped us and go safely home. In order to do that, we need to trust each other, and the one thing that's impeding me to do that is your Hat. I don't know what's stopping you from trusting _me-_"

"I've never gotten a good look at you. You always have your face hidden."

"Not anymore." He pointed out, "Tell you what; you follow my plan, and we get to see each other's faces. No more disguises ever. That sound good?"

Funnily enough, it did. I nodded, and sighed and said, "I'm taking my hat off now."

"Alright."

"I'm doing it."

"Yes."

"This is it."

"Of course."

I grabbed the hat's tail with my teeth. "Okay."

"Mm-hmm."

"I'm ready."

"Better late than never."

I gave up procrastinating and I slipped it off. The magic skin peeled off with it like a sandy cloak, lifting and disintegrating and vanishing. The angular jaw diminished and smoothed, my forehead curved and shaped itself like a heart (it looked impossibly manly-girlish) the hard cheekbones crusted away for soft ones, my lips bloomed, my chest stayed just as flat (well, it might as well have) and my hair gained a precious inch. The ropes seemed looser.

"Wow," Sheik remarked in surprise, "I can feel the difference."

"Thanks," I muttered bitterly, and it's easier to speak. The drawback of the Hat is that it always makes me feel like I have a cold. My voice sounded like my own. It felt… secure.

"Alright," Sheik rejoined optimistically, "Let's do this."

First we struggled to get the rest of the rope off of us. On the count of three we stood, and the ropes fell like a bunch of dead heavy snakes and I gave them a good kick for giving me such a hard time. Now we're tied together by our wrists and necks, and because of that I had to keep my back straight. We shuffled towards a wall.

"Ready?" Sheik asked, as he braced one foot against the wall, the other bent low to boost himself up. I crouched lower, and doubled over and I felt his spine digging into mine.

"Just go."

He grunted and kicked off the floor and wall, and he rolled backwards up my back and over my head his wrists twisted and strained on the rope cuffs it burnt and I nearly staggered under the concentrated weight on my shoulders and our heads banged together and his arms struggled past my shoulders but his feet touched the floor and he faced me, his nose so close it brushed mine and his arms were around me and when he straightened up his collarbone banged against my chin. "Ow."

"That was awkward." He agreed.

I noticed warm liquid on my nose. "Oh Din you're bleeding."

"I cut my noose with the foot-knife but it took some trial and error. It's nothing, really."

I could feel panic rising. I was surrounded. I was trapped. Shit. Shit. "Okay what next."

"I just want you to think happy thoughts while I do this." his neck bent and I remembered what's going to happen and I froze. He had to cut _my_ noose. With his teeth.

I tried to think of being alone in a nice, wide, expanse of land, but I couldn't. His arms were around me for Furore's sake, and I felt his body-heat, though I could tell he's making a conscious effort of staying the freaking-hell away. I tipped my head back, cringing, as he brushed my neck with his lips, searching for the rope to gnaw through.

His breath was warm, ghosty. His lips were soft, and gentle, and I trembled as they caressed my skin. He finally found the rope round my neck and I felt his teeth graze my skin and I concentrated on the sound of grinding fibre rather than his breath near my cheek. He kindly backed away as much as he could from my skin and I said my thanks.

He said something back without opening his mouth and I laughed. I flexed the muscle of my arms; they're getting stiff after being tied behind my back so long. I was probably losing circulation in my fingers too…

_Snap_.

"Huh," I remarked, "That was fast."

"Healthy teeth does that."

"Alright, then," I twitched my wrists. "Can you do it?"

"Shouldn't be too hard," he muttered, and I could feel his fingers picking at the bonds, feeling over the knots and the chains clinking and squeaking. His arm muscles flexed around me, and if I leaned my head forward I could rest it against his shoulder. I tried to pretend that he was a statue but that freaked me out even more so I worked on listening to his heartbeat, to remind myself he's like me, he won't hurt me, he won't.

He smelt like… something nice. Something earthy, like a stove. He's warm.

After a few seconds he curses.

I paled. "Oh no."

"It's okay, just stay calm…"

"What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just… it's giving me trouble. The rope's wound round metal manacles, so I have to get rid of that, but right now I'm more concerned of the possibility…"

"A keyhole." I cannot _believe_ this. "You'll have to pick at a real lock."

"…Basically."

"You need to see it."

He paused, sighed, and admitted, "It'll be faster if I could see it, yes, but-"

I pressed myself flush against him, stifling a whimper and I muttered quickly into his shoulder, "Do it do it do it quick do it untie the knot there's a pin in my hair use that to pick the lock just do it quickly do it please."

"Right," he whispered, his head bent right over my shoulder, his fingers like lightening against my wrists. His body against mine in the dark reminded me of when I impaled that Wall-master and it died on top of me and I couldn't get it off; the heat reminded me of my first blood-shed, the giant spider inside the Deku tree, but I fight the images back, fight it, fight it, thinking of Sheik and only Sheik, even if the constricting ropes reminded me of Dekubaba gnawing at my wrists, his mouth digging behind my ear for the pin like a tentacle of Biri…

"Sheik…"

"Hm?"

"I don't much like the dark, either."

"I don't blame you." he mumbled around the pin, and I think he dropped it into his hand, because he muttered, "You beauty," and there's a little bit of clicking, after that. "Not the greatest day for you, is it?"

I laughed nervously. "No."

Clickity-click. "Your voice sounds nice."

I blinked. "Pardon?"

"It sounds nice," he reiterated, and he adds, "Do you sing?"

"Um… sometimes…"

"I'd like to hear it once we're out of here."

"For all you know I'm tone-deaf."

"Well, even if I'm wrong it'll be at your expense, so I don't mind too much."

"Huh," I rolled my eyes. The ropes fell to the ground. Only the manacle left, now.

C-click. "Th-… oh."

I froze. "What? What?"

"Okay, nothing's wrong, don't panic. One last twist and this is done."

"But…?"

"It's jinxed."

My thoughts: I swear. _I will kill for this_. "How?"

"No idea. I think we should find the door before we do anything else though. Can you see it? Because I know for a fact that behind you is a lot of wall."

"It's there. To your left. A few paces."

"Right, when I say now, I unlock this, we run for it, you blow the door with Din's fire."

"No sweat."

"Right… two, one, _NOW_!"

We gapped the space between us and the door easy; it _bang_ed outwards into a hundred boards and a thousands splinters and ashes as we burst into the dungeon torch-lights and I could hear giant cogs and gears working above we raced faster up the stairs and he pushed me up when I tripped and there the door was to true sunlight and mother-of-all-bastards the thing had a metal grate closing on it like a freaking axe!

"Skid!" I yelled and we dived at the same time me head first him feet first and we slid in the dust and cobblestones and it hurt but I'm through and when I turned back Sheik Sheik Sheik his head wasn't through and I screamed because the grate fell like a guillotine with teeth I screwed my eyes shut _clang_!

… Oh gods, Sheik, Sheik…

A cough. "I'm alright…"

My eyes flew open and he's alright he's alright but the grate's still there pinning him down two spikes on either side of his neck, the left one impossibly close to impaling his jugular.

And he's freaking laughing. "I'm alright," he chuckled, sounding surprised, "Neat."

"You _bastard_!"

"Not the kind of language for a lady, I think," he pointed out as he wriggled his head away under the grate. And for the first time, we're looking at each other's faces.

He… He would've been average, maybe even handsome, if it wasn't for the giant… something, that marred the right side of his face. It was a network of mottled, melted, rough skin that looked like a complicated cobweb, or series of veins and arteries. It was sprawled across from his neck to his ear, to his jaw and up to his cheek bones, and it framed his eye as well, like a sick map of a demented world. If you ignored that, you saw he had a round, almost childish chin, angular cheekbones, an aquiline nose and his eyes were bright as cherries. I loved cherries.

Those cherries were staring at me, unconditionally. I wondered what he saw.

He smiled, showing white teeth. The right corner of his mouth didn't move. "It is such a waste to hide all that. Not like me."

I shrugged, telling myself to look him in the eye. What had I expected, the epitome of male beauty? "I think your face is quite impressive. Much more memorable than mine,"

"Why thank you." he touched the field of trenches and potholes on his face, his smile wan and sad. "You're the first person that's quite mild about it."

"So… will you start calling me by name now?"

"Of course." He held out his hand to me, and his lopsided smile widened. "I'm Tharlaigh. Tharlaigh Hasheik. Sheik's my nick-name and alias in one. And you are…?"

I took his hand and shook it. "Lin. Lin Knightly."

His grin widened cheekily. "_Really_? Isn't the wordplay a tad too convenient?"

I pouted. "Well excuse my ten-year-old belief of thinking myself a _genius_ for giving myself a surname that worked even if I added or subtracted a 'k'."

He chuckled and kept looking at me, as if he hadn't seen enough. I looked back; it would hurt if I turned away. "Well… nice meeting you, Miss Knightly."

"Lin's fine, Tharley. Did I say it right?"

"Nope." He laughed, stood, offered to help me up. "Sheik's fine. Easier to pronounce."

"Right."

"So…" he turned his gaze away, his unblemished side facing me. "Where to now?"

It took us a while to decide. I wanted my bloody hat back, but the grate was charmed to shoot pain at whoever touched it, and Sheik insisted I save my Din's fire for something more mobile and clawed. He reckoned we didn't have time to look for our stuff either, since we didn't know what else the jinx on our cuffs did. For all we knew, a red-alert had been sounded.

And then we had to _find_ the 'boss' of this place, and we had three ideas each. I thought he was either at the highest point, like a tower, lowest point, like the dungeons we were trapped in, or right in the centre of the fortress. Sheik thought that he was either in the most secluded and shadowy corner of the place or in a large space surrounded by his henchmen, or not even in the fortress.

We drew a map in the dust (a vague one, anyway) and this fortress had the structure known as the Sun's Eye. A circular main room at the centre, ground floor, ringed by sleeping quarters, then armoury, then three consecutive rings of defences before hitting the gardens and the outer fortress wing-buildings, which branched out of the main room like rays of light.

We both agreed to go to the middle main chamber. Then we can climb up the towers from there and see what happened. And we could get new weapons for ourselves on the way there too, so easy come, easy go.

Wrong.

There were freaking _people_ in this castle, and I knew nothing about fighting them. Sheik gave me a crash-course as we went. "So see the one blundering towards us like an idiot?"

I told myself to concentrate on the man coming to me, and the close-contact that would ensue from it. Oh gods. "Yep."

"Since he's not well protected, at this point it's best to dodge the blade and give him a quick jab in the gut with any pointy body-part you have."

"Foot, elbow, knee, fist."

"Very good."

We dispatched them together just in case they're better than they seemed. If there were more than four of them we ran. The routine lasted for maybe half an hour.

We were getting nowhere.

"I think…" I wiped sweat off my forehead as we leaned against a wall and regrouped, "I think we're going in the wrong direction."

"No…" he coughed, gulped air, and straightened up from leaning on his knees. He looked beat. "We're going on a tangent."

"There's a difference?"

"Din's fire. Against the first wooden wall we see."

"_There they are_!"

"Oh boy," Sheik muttered before kicking a path through these heavily annoying and evil hench-people. I wasn't great at the hand-to-hand thing. My kicks had no grace, my punches were blundering and I kept raising an invisible sword or shield when a soldier came yelling with his weapon. I was frantic and had no sense of control when they got close; I just whacked and punched and flayed my arms round until they got scared of my undeniably unskilled tactics. I ended up fighting like a street-rat, kneeing the men between the legs, kicking shins and knees and wrenching pinkie fingers and punching thumbs into eyes, quite undignified.

Sheik's pile of soldiers was big and quiet, limp from getting knocked out. My small number of defeated soldiers (they just keep getting back up!) were howling and rolling on the ground, clutching their abused appendages.

I compared my pile with his and I wilted. Inadequacy was something new to me.

Sheik burst out laughing at my expression. "You look adorable when you pout, Lin."

The audacity of it! "_I'm not pouting_!"

"You were," he teased and grabbed my hand and we ran from my pile who were waking up his pile, furtively avoiding looking Sheik in the face. There would be reinforcements.

Where is the way in!? Or out. Out _would_ be nice indeed.

"Here!" Sheik jerked to a stop and he rapped the wooden wall with his knuckles and it sounded hollow, like there was another room behind it. "Blast it away, Lin."

"Pleasure," I grumbled, still annoyed. I. did. not. pout.

The ground convulsed and the air tore open with a screaming roar and heat scoured our faces like a whip of acid and the wall was cannoned out of the way with a destructive halo of fire, with splinters, char and ash following its destructive wake like a death cloud.

I gaped. My voice was faint as I croaked, "Oops."

"I'm not complaining," Sheik grinned and led in, careful to step over the flaming remains of the wall, "We're in."

I'd blown into three quarters wall and one quarter narrow corridor, and there were weapons—mostly armour—cluttered across the floor and we carefully tip-toed away from the mess I'd caused, and ran a tad to be out of sight. We stopped to catch our breath, and I looked around, finally realising where we were. The armoury.

I was surprised. Somehow, we'd gotten past the three consecutive rings of human defences. I watched Sheik's back, and marvelled at his ability at running away in the right direction.

"Here." He threw me a long-sword, the cutting blade wickedly sharp and thin and most importantly light. I was thankful for that because it was the hat that gave me extra strength to hold the metal monstrosities known as broadswords. "Best I could see."

"You're a saint."

He grimaced playfully. "Pretty ugly one, though."

I rolled my eyes. I noticed with delight that I was already used to his face; his cheery attitude helped.

He was taking his sweet time, choosing his own weapon. We ambled our way past the racks of weapons. No soldiers were running for us. "Should I go for an axe? I feel like an axe. Or a chain-whip."

"Is there a mixture of both?" I answered patiently as I looked around for a shield. A small one. Unlike the rest of the fortress, these corridors could hold three people aligned, max.

"Most likely not." he sighed and then, "It's not much of a team-work weapon anyway. I'll go for a…" he twiddled his fingers and his arm leaped out and yanked at something long.

I gaped at it. "It's a stick."

"Well…"

"It's a _blunt stick_."

Sheik gave me a patient look before the stick whirred around him like a tornado, behind and up and around to demonstrate his deft skill. It snapped back into position, one eyebrow of his raised. "We're facing people, aren't we?"

We spun round weapons drawn when something knocked a stray piece of armour. Tektite. They'd rounded a corner I hadn't seen. Five of them.

I grinned. _My_ territory now. I leapt past Sheik and thrust and ripped the blade up through One's body and kicked Two into Three Four Five and I splayed my hands and they were _pushed_ squealing against the side wall _splat_ went two tektites and I cut the last two in half with a horizontal slash. They burst in flame, leaving a trail of nasty lime-coloured intestine juice.

I turned to look at Sheik, wide-eyed and mouth a small surprised 'o'. I grinned childishly. "Ten seconds; best record ever."

He submitted to a chuckle and shook his head. "You insane woman."

I pou-I _frowned_ and puzzled over the sudden development, ignoring his comment, "Why the sudden enemy change?"

"Well," Sheik contemplatively raised his stick as a Wallmaster dropped from the ceiling. The thing nearly impaled itself on the stick but fell to the floor writhing and was finished off by something sharp that Sheik kicked off the floor and threw into the general vicinity of its heart. Sheik seemed not to notice it was even there. "Maybe our _boss_ doesn't want anybody getting ideas about his plan?"

In other words, we were getting closer.


	2. Part 2 of 2

Hello my dearest friends!!! The second and final part of DD is up!! Dun, dun, duuuuuun.

Hm, that could be considered a pun, no? Anyway, hope you like! XD

* * *

………………

Part 2

………………

What _was _this plan anyway? I asked Sheik, and he looked bewildered. "Didn't Zelda tell you?"

"If she thinks only I can handle it, it basically implies, go, see, destroy. Hardly worth asking about now, is it?" I turned back and slashed at the cloud of keese chasing us and two cried out and exploded.

Sheik sighed. He randomly swung the stick backwards. Shriek. Boom. "She's reckoning that this place is run by a fanatic. He's been robbing jewels and artworks and everything else that resembles 'pretty'. Including potted plants. She reckons further, what with the number of monsters and criminals pouring from this area, that this man's trying to steal her kingdom next."

"I _hate_," swing slash shriek ba-boom. "Crazy dangerous freaks."

And it made sense, really. Tektites and keese were _fugly_ but as we got closer to the middle room the enemies were growing prettier, and _themed_. First we went past what I'm guessing was the pale themed enemies like, Like-likes with their silky skin, metal spiked balls I saw only in the water temple, and white wolfos. The wolfos were quickly dispatched; the others we ignored and ran because the Like-likes were useless without sand to impede their prey and the spiked balls couldn't move that fast without water. Then there was a tribal themed block full of armos and beemos more keese and dodongos. These were a tad harder.

But _where_ did this evil-person _get them from_?!

"Monsters are surprisingly easy to tame," Sheik explained as we finally reached a regal looking door, "If you don't lose an arm or a leg to them first."

"I repeat; I hate crazy dangerous freaks."

Sheik kindly kicked the door open for me. I was getting tired. Curses…

Gold. Gold, gold, gold. And lots of sparkliness in all shades of the rainbow. I gaped.

Princess Zelda's Throne Room was modest. I knew that. But it was still awe inspiring, with the giant stone statue of the Triforce and the patron goddesses swirling round it, and the wide expanse of space, the carvings sprawled across walls and the impossibly high ceiling.

But this… this throne room inspired _true_ awe. Awe of _tackiness._ It was _disgusting_ with its impossibly gilded walls of marble and sapphires and druses and rubies and emeralds and topazes and amethyst and goddesses knew what other jewels, sparkling and twirling through molten designs of silver and bronze and oh _Nayru_ even the Darknuts and Iron knuckles that was guarding the place were decorated.

I was scarred for life. Well, okay, maybe not but definitely for a week.

"Ah, _welcome_,"

That voice scarred me for real. It was poisoned sugar, rotten honey, a sickness wreathed in flowers. A shiver raked my spine as I met eyes with the one that had locked us up, sitting himself on a throne of extraordinary wealth and bad taste, a throne of the creamiest pastel shaded velvet and other materials that looked distinctly expensive and gaudy.

He was beautiful. Yet he wasn't. He had a chiselled jaw, carved by the goddesses, sunlight dusted his skin, his hair stolen from an angle's head flowing and curling down his broad shoulders like a river of desert-hued feathers, eyes bright as stars. But his features were… blurry. Shifty. I couldn't tell whether his eye-colour was red or blue, it kept flickering in the light, so it was always a weird shade of purple. His nose hardly existed, a mouth without lips. He was an evil divinity, a benevolent nightmare, a terrible piece of heaven. I couldn't stop looking at his face, even if it made me sick with euphoria.

It looked familiar…

"Lin!" Sheik caught me (I'd fallen?) and my weapon clattered to the floor. I looked at him, at his face that was disfigured with that sickening mass of pulp that shouldn't be categorized as skin, it was a disease, a plague, he shouldn't be allowed to be seen because he was so _hideous_-

Hurt, plain and simple, crossed his expression, and he must've seen my thoughts in my expression and I was horrified with myself. I stumbled and staggered to my own feet, shaking with dismay. Since when was I so… _vain_?

"Are… are you alright?"

I gulped, my reply shaky. "No, I'm not."

The man on the throne laughed, and the shivers violently attacked my whole body with pleasure. Everything about it seemed familiar, enticing, _wrong_. Nothing had ever affected me this way. Why? Why now? I hugged my shoulders so tight I think I bruised them. I felt Sheik stepping around me, picking up my sword, protecting me from this… this…

_Deity_.

"Stop that," Sheik growled, "It's annoying."

The Spirit laughed. I loved and loathed the tune. It was going to be a theme of my dreams, both good and bad, for a while. "I've always hated your eyes…"

"Lin," he hissed urgently, nudging my shoulder, "It's an illusion. Whatever you see, don't get sucked in."

Easy for him to say. "What do _you_ see?"

"Sometimes a goddess. Sometimes my face, only better. Sometimes… his true form."

"What's _that_?"

"My uncle's decrepit mug."

I froze, shock causing through my muscles. Did he just say…?

"Hi, Uncle Vhighew." He said forcefully casually, "Still into cosmetics, I see."

"And your eyesight's still too good for my liking, Tharlaigh." He sighed, so disappointed that I felt embarrassed that I was even associated with this red-eyed freak, "How's your life been, since we last parted?"

"Ruined, thank you muchly." Sheik's tone held the same sort of poison, a toxic sweetness that was filled with sarcasm. I cringed. "But I like to think my personality improved since then."

Vhigh… Veev… his name was delightfully impossible to pronounce, like an exotic drug. I wanted to go to him, let him kiss my hand, gaze into his…

I frowned, half confusion, half revulsion. _Kiss my hand_? What happened to my personal bubble? Why would I want to look at his face, it was a blur, a puzzle of… body-parts.

I straightened up, slowly. Kept my eyes on the gaudy, disgusting walls. It really was extremely bad-taste, though it was sparkly and pretty. I could vaguely hear Veeth… I decided to call him random names that sounded like something out of my vocabulary. It seemed discrediting him helped me concentrate. Beaver was a good start.

I snorted, amused. It interrupted Beaver's monologue.

I could feel his gaze on me. I concentrated on the wall I was staring at. "My, my, I didn't notice this girl with you…"

"Think about it and I will _kill you_, bastard," Sheik snapped, completely shielding me.

"Here I was, thinking only males had attacked my haven," From the corner of my eye I saw Bee-fur move an arm in my general direction, and I fought the yearning to run to him, kneel at his feet and offer my sword-hand to his service. "She's a beauty, nephew."

"Lin," Sheik's voice filled with panic. "Lin, don't. Don't be tricked. Please."

I was rigid, my muscles hurt. Beaver. Bee-fur. Ze-view. Phe-ewe. Vivir. She-spew. Making fun of a hopelessly enticing person was unsurprisingly hard.

"Don't you see, Tharlaigh? She's under my spell." The smugness crawled over my skin. I felt Sheik's gaze on me, wide and horrified. "Come my dear; you know you wish it."

I turned to meet his gaze, to tell him no, to snarl at him and fight it, but his blurry face had settled to a shape and smiled, beauty incarnate, with one eye the hue of cherries, the other a cutting of a clear spring sky. It was a mixture of Link and Lin and Sheik, flaws and blemishes destroyed, an image that was wrongly perfect in its divine, magnificent mortality.

How could I say no to such a man?

I swooned and took an easy step, a start to a run that would've put me right next to him, to kneel at his feet and bask in his glory. But Sheik cried out and twisted into my path, eyes wide with fury and sword at the ready.

I dived at his right hand and wrestled for the sword but then I switched tactics and snatched at the stick. I swung and he parried with the flat of the blade and the fight was on.

We were both at disadvantage: I had a weapon that I couldn't use and he had a weapon that could/would mortally injure me. He didn't want that; I knew and was confused. How could he not want to harm me when he was refusing to let me get near my… my…

My mouth screeched and attacked blindly, spurred on by my master's delighted laughter as Sheik mouthed obscenities under his breath. Many times my rod whacked his torso and legs, while his weapon came nowhere near me. He was in the way, in the way of me… me what?

"Damn it Lin!" I could hear his desperation as the stick nearly impaled his left eye, "Snap out of it!"

I lunged and whacked at his head and he ducked and his hair flew and the right side of his face escaped to sight and my stomach lurched at the mass of deformed skin that looked like the muscle of a monster in its final spasm of death, a plastered curse of pain.

Instinct and the sheer obviousness made the connection. His life had been ruined by his uncle. His uncle loved beauty. Sheik could see through his illusions.

The Bastard was responsible for the scar on Sheik's face.

I snapped out of it. But I kept fighting, my face contorted with fury. It was no different from the expression I'd worn in my trance, so they didn't even realise I was back to normal. I felt terrible for attacking him, but Sheik was my only outlet for concentration, and I needed to work out how to defeat this wizard.

Attacking him head-on would be a bad idea. The round room was ringed with (decorated) Darknuts and Iron Knuckles; if I suddenly changed tactics, we'd be dead. Take out the wizard before the things can react. Or take them all out at once. But how do I do that?

A spell, lingering from one of Zelda's boring lessons floated up my memory, vague on details but the end result had fascinated me…

I lunged, so close to him that one swing of his weapon could've killed me. He hesitated and I made my face look _sorry_, tried to express it in every contour of my face, every line, I begged my eyes to shine like they're supposed to (according to those romance books that Zelda's been pushing me to read) with my mental apology, and maybe he understood because his muscles slackened and I easily got the pressure point Impa had demonstrated to me between the neck, jaw and skull.

I _whacked_ the butt of the stick against the pressure point. I knew the pain of it. It'd felt like a thunderbolt through every joint, a paralyzing force that refused power to be exerted against bone and gravity, making you thunk against the floor, conscious but unable to move for at least two minutes.

I dropped the stick and ran, ran as fast as I could to the wizard, keeping my gaze to the floor. I kneeled at his feet, blindly, reverently clasping his hand, and I was a lost at what to do. Seriously. I'd dropped my freaking weapon.

"My dear," he cooed, raising his other hand to pat me. I shivered in revulsion. I could _feel_ his magic like a film of slime over his hand.

My mind dimmed. No… I needed to remember what Zelda had said…

"Such a beauty you are, such a waste to be put in a dark and lonely cell. What do you say to a life of luxury at my side, eternal youth, the prettiest jewels and dresses and servants? Oh yes, you'll have a mountain of servants soon, with the Hylian crown to accompany your pretty head."

Ah. So he really had intended to take over. Jerk. Wait, taking over…?

_The Triforce isn't a fountain of power. It draws on the environment, on life and everything, taking it in and converting it to use as its own. This is why Ganondorf's-rule-that-never-happened was so destructive. So, if you're ever stuck in the mud, just hope that it'll be in a place _swamped_ with magic_.

I grinned. I was definitely swamped.

The hand on my head lifted and came into my vision. He touched my chin. _He touched my chin_.

In the space of time he made me look up every pore of my body mind and soul flared open and my Triforce piece burned and I was swallowed drowning stirred burning wrenched spinning churned bursting with magic-magic-magic I was the sun I was the tide I was _time_ and I looked at him and saw that he was old, he was wrinkled like papyrus, hair grey, teeth yellow, his eyes wide and dark and doomed.

I smiled. "_Nayru's Judgement_."

And then I blacked out.

……………

It hurt. It felt like the worst, terrible flu. Only it permeated in the very marrow of all my bones, my legs and toes, arms and fingers, spine and ribs and skull. Somebody shook my shoulder.

"Lin. Lin. Wake up. Please. Wake up. Come on."

I cried a few tears. Gods it hurt. I opened my mouth and it was dry as the desert. I went for nodding instead of speaking. My head felt heavy with sweat.

I heard him sigh. It sounded stressed and strained. "You insane woman."

I felt his hand raise my head off the floor and a makeshift pillow was slipped beneath my hair. It felt warm. "Than's."

"Your welcome. How are you feeling?"

I raised my hand a little and made an iffy gesture. Sheik scoffed. "I'm not surprised."

"What happn'd to th' bastard…?"

"I think you froze him."

A sickened jolt went through me. Guilt. _Great_. "I… I k-killed him…?"

"Nah, you just froze him. In time."

I made my face say, 'Oh _please_.'

"Take a look, if you don't believe me."

I shook my head; I didn't want to open my eyes for a while. It felt they'd been covered in lead. "Tired."

"You… want to get back to sleep?"

I nodded.

"…Go ahead. I, I'll keep watch. We'll be okay; you froze the surrounding guard with him. Just wake up, alright?"

Just how much magic had I used? I couldn't care. I couldn't even reply to say 'sure'. The pain was like a drug. It slipped into my mind and beat a rhythm till I fell, fell for so long that I knew true darkness.

……………

I felt better by a smidge when I opened my eyes. My head was nestled on and against something squishy and warm, and it was blue. A thin blanket-thing was draped across my chest, and a warm, reassuring weight against my arm.

The blue was breathing. Aw, crud…

Obviously deciding to volunteer his _lap_ as my pillow displayed his imbecilic regard to my issues. Did Sheik not understand the concept of personal space?

Damn me for being too tired to move; I couldn't even wake him to demand what he was thinking. I frowned at his face, angled down towards me in his sleep, which explained why he hadn't noticed that I was back with the living…

I couldn't believe it. There were salt-tracks down his face. He'd been _crying_.

"Sheik…?" I coughed, making my voice less of a whisper. "Sheik!"

He jolted and gasped awake, looking haunted as he blinked. A laugh burst from him when he saw me, and he sounded so relieved when he cried out, "You're alive!"

"You…" I winced at my headache, "You thought I was a goner?"

He looked affronted and amused at my incredulously hurt tone. I mean, honestly. Talk about faith. "Look at what you did, and _then_ judge me, Hero."

I frowned at him—Hero my arse—and looked away to stare at the gaudy throne-room, that… holy gods what _happened_!?

There were spider-web fissures in the marble, and dust on the gold. The other precious metals were rusted grey and green and red, and the jewels imbedded in the patterns were dulled and milky. It looked like fifty years had passed. But what made me stare and stare the most were the crackles of cobalt crystal that sprouted from the Bastard and all of his minions, icily eternal.

Dread coursed through my guts. "You said I didn't kill him."

"And you didn't. That's solid time."

"Sheik, that's not funny."

He rolled his eyes. "Sheikah like me _see_ things, Lin. Some see a grey veil round people when they're about to die, others a gold string round their ring finger when they're near their true love, but me, I see magic and their nature. And that crystal there," he gestured with his chin, "Is the most impossible example of Time Magic I've _ever_ seen."

"But Nayru's Judgment's got nothing to do with time," I tried to get up, to walk myself to his gaudy throne and touch the crystal, to make sure it's real, but Sheik pushed me down. "I was supposed to trap him in a crystal, that was _it_."

"I think you tapped into the Triforce a tad too much," Sheik tutted, shushing me when I tried to get up again, "You… you looked pretty bad when you collapsed. I was worried."

"How bad?"

"Ever seen a person in the last stages of turning into a Redead?"

I had. A shrivelled husk of what was once a person, pale as a maggot, possessed by a banshee. I shuddered. I remember giving them fairy water to drink, and it had cured the curse, but the man hadn't been strong enough to live. He'd gone with a smile, though. "That bad, huh."

"Oh yes. Now come on, let's get out of here. Can you stand?"

Of course, I said yes. Of course, I couldn't.

I felt like a child as he hitched me onto his back in a piggy-back ride. I tried insisting that I could _walk_ if he'd just lend me his shoulder, but no, no, I'd used up too much magic.

Oh, as much as I hated to admit it, he was right. I couldn't even lift my arms; they dangled uselessly as Sheik carried me away. He said he knew where our weapons were. And the pigeon coops, to tell Zelda our mission was over. He knew his uncle well enough to assume that he'd placed our stuff right next to one of the doors that led to the dungeons, to taunt us with the knowledge that we'd missed them in our hasty escape. Bastard.

I nestled my head against his hair, and breathed in deeply; I was surprised with myself. It seemed my inhibitions towards physical contact evaporated. Well, with Sheik, anyway. I guess being tied up caterpillar style with said person does that to you.

He smelt… muscular. Something dusky along with the warm bread-stove smell, a scent I was familiar with because of the long hours in the training yards. It was the one thing that my Hat disguise couldn't create or imitate. It was nice.

"Lin?"

"Mm-hm?"

Sheik seemed to hesitate before continuing, "What… what did you hear, when uncle and I were throwing threats at each other?"

I uttered a shrug-grunt. "Not much. Busy trying to stay sane."

"Ah," he sighed, "That's alright. Good, actually. Embarrassing, you know, family quarrel. He isn't new at being a villain, but he's quite lacking in the whole Evil Overlord section. You would've been bored to death with his cliché monologue."

I chuckled. "Sheik…?" my voice was less of a croak. Yay.

"Mm-hm?"

"Thanks."

He snorted. "For what?"

Grunt-shrug. "Without you I'd still be stuck in the cell, or trying hard not to be caught by soldiers or looking for weapons, or… I, I really was tricked, you know. That spell got to me. You snapped me out of it."

"Nonsense. All I did was uselessly shout and curse."

"You gave me a reason to see him for the bastard he was, Sheik."

"And… that is?"

"He was the one that did it to you, wasn't he." I nudged my face against his, "Your scar."

He flinched. He sighed and muttered something before nudging me back. "I thought you weren't listening to our conversation."

"I didn't." I shrugged for real, this time. "I guessed. I'm good at puzzles."

He sighed, and was quiet for a long time. I worried that I touched a sore spot of his past (in retrospect, _no duh_) so I hastily apologised, and he sighed and shook his head. "You're right, of course. Only he tried to blind me, and I happened to dodge his blast, but… just not quick enough. It was nearly ten years ago."

"Bastard," I muttered, and his chuckle was sad.

The rest of the walk was quiet; I nestled my face against his and breathed in his scent. I liked it a lot, and he was warm, and he didn't jostle me once and my feverish-bone discomfort slowly ebbed. I should practice my magic. I hadn't used so much, ever, and I had no control of the Triforce at all…

"Here." He un-shouldered me and I slid against a wall and I was sitting down, tired and limp as a rag doll. He crouched in front of me, and he smiled, brushing my fringe away from my eyes. I flinched; I wasn't _that_ used to his touch. Heat bloomed in my cheeks as his fingers lingered on my forehead. "We'll take a break. Seems the guards've run, and the bastard and his minions aren't going anywhere for a time. We're safe."

"Oh god," I moaned, "Can we get my Hat back?"

He chuckled and looked at me and a grin so wide and malicious grew on his face that I was _slightly_ worried. "You can, if you want, but you'll find me stopping you,"

I gawped. He kept grinning. "_Why_?"

He shrugged. "I like working with Lin rather than Hero."

"But that H-"

"Do you believe in love at first sight?"

I struggled with his randomness before relenting with an exasperated "Uurgh! What's that got to do with freaking anything?!"

"I was wondering because," he took my hand and to my greatest horror, shock and shame, _kissed it_. My heart ran away. "I think I've fallen in love with you."

My thoughts: Blank. It took me a whole of three seconds to respond. My hand shook in his grip. I blushed because I didn't even have the strength to pull it away. "Oh _please_!"

"No, seriously." His tone was nowhere near serious.

"You can't fall in love just… just like _that_?!"

"Well, no," he conceded, finally uttering some sanity, "But you forget that I've been spying on codename Garden Girl for a few months now, and I've been acquainted with Hero for longer. I know your ethics, I feel the time I spent with you on this mission is the best I've had with another woman, and," his insane smile came back, "Your issues amuse me like nothing else."

My head swirled. My heart came back, fluttering drunk. I just looked at him, smiling at me, with my favourite shade of cherries shining in his gaze. Curse him for that advantage.

"No. Wait. You said _love at first sight_." I was determined to stop him from this madness. Love me? _Me_? "How does looking at my manly-girl face, with tear streaks all over and a bruise at my jaw make me so special aside from looking banged up?"

"It wasn't me looking at you that did it," he protested, adding smoothly, "Not that you don't look gorgeous. It was more you looking at me, without… without anything."

My brain was about to implode. Love? Me? Gravity swooned at the notion. "…You're making no sense."

"Lin," he sighed impatiently, "How often does a girl look at this face without screaming, or flinching or gasping or whatever, really? This scar was my curse; it drove people away before they knew me. Yet you, _you_, just looked at me, and nothing. You did nothing to discourage me, and yet nothing to encourage me, you made _no_ effort in looking away. You made me feel normal. Do you know how much that meant to me?"

What could I say? What could I say to the eyes that shone as they gazed into mine, at the lopsided smile that I was drawn to, the scar that both fascinated and interested me, that somehow couldn't look ugly anymore, not when he was the one wearing it. I was shocked, and he kissed my hand again. The skin burned at his contact. "I am _determined_ to win you over for this, Lin. Be warned."

"I'm not going to be able to rest because of this, you realise?" I muttered bitterly as he sat next to me, a companionable but respectful distance away. I could still feel his presence in the air, like a blanket of sunlight, or a cool shade.

That grin again. Curses. "Care to use my shoulder?"

"Nope."

He laughed. "Damn."

Not that he had to really work to win me over. I'd always worked so hard to do the same as Link, not even realising I'd been doing it all wrong.

Once we got home it was a rather unamusing game of cat-and-mouse between him and me, him advancing with that smile, me avoiding him at all costs, gut swinging when he taught me hand to hand unnecessarily up close, blushes painting my face when he teased me in missions, stripping away all the masculinity that I'd painstakingly worked on since I'd been bestowed the Hat.

A month later Zelda caught him pecking me on the cheek. He cordially told her the wedding would be in two years (Jerk).

It was three and a half, _actually. _

* * *

Okay, the cuteness seemed short so I tried to make it prolonged and more cutsey. I hope i didn't epically FAIL. Review! (heart)


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